Reconciliation
by NikaDawson
Summary: It’s been a long time since Petunia Dursley has seen her nephew. But she’s about to get a wake up call in the form of three siblings.


**Author's Note: **I've had this fic on my comp for awhile, but never posted it cause I wasn't entirely sure about it. I decided to give it a go and see how it does. No warnings that I can think of needed.

"When our relatives are at home, we have to think of all their good points or it would be impossible to endure them." -George Bernard Shaw

**Reconciliation:**

"Are you sure this is the place Al," a skeptical James Sirius Potter asked, staring at the row of drab looking homes. They were all the same, size and neutral brown color all conformed into the idea of normal many middle class muggles seem to share.

Lily Nymphadora frowned and looked at the piece of parchment with the address written on it, than glanced once again at the street sign and number on one of the houses. She bit her lip, the hope that maybe the Potter's middle child had gotten something wrong for once dashed. No, they were on the right street and in front of the right house. Maybe they would get lucky and find that the muggles they were seeking had long moved away, but she doubted it.

"For the last time, yes. I'm sure this is the place James," Al snapped, sure he was on the verge of screaming. He and his brother rarely got along on a good day, the stress and hopelessness filling both of their emotions at that moment wasn't helping their brotherly camaraderie.

Lily rolled her brown eyes at the bickering boys. Honestly, one was a little under a year away from being thirty, and yet when in the vicinity of his younger brother he always regressed to the mental state of being two years old. It was a wonder she hadn't decided to strangle them and curse their bodies into dust to hide the evidence just because of the headache they had given her on their ride through the London Underground.

James held up his hands in a mock surrender, "Fine, your right, your highness. You're always right. In fact, since your always right, we should get the Minister of Magic to put up a statue in your honor. Under it, it could be engraved, 'To Albus Potter, the most annoying prat on the face of the planet."

Or at least, that was what James wanted to say. He barely managed to refrain from letting those words roll off his tongue and instead just shrugged, not really in the mood to argue with his younger stick-in-the-mud. He wasn't a teenage anymore, and petty insults weren't going to get him anywhere. Not that they had gotten him anywhere then, but it was so much easier being open with your true feelings when you had puberty hormones to blame.

No, he was more mature than that now. What example would he be setting for his daughter if he childishly insulted his brother? The three year old girl he had adopted from Ireland when she was barely a few days old had enough of a smart mouth already, she didn't need to think her daddy might be encouraging it by doing something like that. Not that Holly was with them, but it was the principle of the thing. Or so James tried to convince himself.

"Why are we doing this again. We've all heard the stories of these muggles. Do you really think Dad needs this now," Lily voiced what James had been thinking all day. Coming here had been Al's idea and they had both been vehemently saying the only reason they were along was because they wanted to make sure he wasn't killed. Their father didn't need one of his children to die before he did.

All three Potter children knew that it saddened Harry that none of his children were close. He had always wanted a sibling when he was a child, and he didn't really understand how they could be blessed with them and not want to be in the same country, let alone the same room. All three couldn't be more different.

James was the traveler, never staying in one place long, always on the move. There was nothing he liked more than to be in some foreign country and exploring the sites of their ancient cultures. Before Holly, he had been irresponsible and a party-boy. No one had thought he could straighten up enough to raise a daughter by himself, but he had proved his parents and the rest of the family wrong. Not only was he an excellent father, but Holly had grounded him, made him want to be a better man and son.

Al was more like his Uncle Percy and Aunt Hermione than he liked to admit. He lived his life by strict rules and morals. He never deviated. His work was very important to him, and he was very much a workaholic. It had taken him less years to rise up in the ranks of the Aurors than it did for most. Responsible enough for ten wizards, when he and James where near each-other sparks flew from their differing views of life.

Lily was a lot like her mother. She loved to cook and do home making chores, but still loved sports. She was on the same Quidditch team her mother had once played for. She was passionate and sporty but down to earth, and most men insisted the only thing feminine about her was her figure. Despite the fact that she despised most wizards, she had still managed to fall in love and get engaged.

Only a few reasons could have put the three siblings on the same street. Their mother was one. Another would have been their Aunt Hermione, who though they would never admit it had always scared them. And last was their father, the reason they were standing on a cold street in the middle of the night, each one inwardly procrastinating about ringing the doorbell of the house they needed.

"Dad would want this Lily. He wants some kind of closure with his past, he always has. Don't you think he deserves the chance for that," Albus said, eyeing the door. He didn't know why the two had insisted on coming with him, he didn't want them there right now. This whole meeting would go smoothly without them mucking up his plans.

"He could have done it himself years ago if he really wanted to. Hell, he could have asked for you to do this if he wanted that don't you think sherlock," James muttered, and ignored the glare his brother tossed him.

"Don't worry James. It isn't like this little plot of his is actually going to work," the redheaded female scornfully laughed.

"If you two imbeciles have nothing to contribute to this, why don't you just crawl into a bottle at some pub and leave me to doing something good for dad," Al snapped, almost at the edge of losing his patience.

The older brunette brother and the youngest sister shared a rare but mutual look and said together, "No."

The elderly woman glanced up from the red stocking she was knitting at the sound of the doorbell ringing. She glanced at the clock, looking startled at the time. Long past an hour that anyone should be ringing a doorbell! She spared a glance at the phone, a fleeting thought of calling the authorities crossing her mind, but her son had already gotten up from where he had been watching the television and was on his way to answer the door. She got up to follow him, sparing a tiny look, as was her habit, at the chair her late husband had once always sat in when he had been alive.

"Son, it's alright. I'll open the door, you stay in the living room," she said, pushing past him. Though he was a grown man, it was still hard for her to think of him as anything other than her little boy. It didn't help her over-protective mother instincts that he had never moved out of the house.

She cautiously opened the door to the sight of three bickering adults. One was a man of average height, the features that she was able to make out very handsome. His hair was black and long, filled with curls any female would envy, and his skin had the look of someone once pale but tanned through hours in the sun. He was wearing a very used looking brown leather jacket and faded denim jeans, a pair of stylish black framed glasses covered dark brown eyes.

The other man in the group was clearly his brother, or at least a close relation. Many of their facial features were the same, but he was taller than the other man by a few inches. His own black hair was messy and unmanageable, cut short it looked in an attempt to neaten it. He had familiar looking almond shaped emerald green eyes, and like the other male was very good looking. Black slacks that were pressed to perfection, and a button down cotton white shirt, he looked almost like the kind of boy she might have been attracted to in her younger years. Almost.

The only female in the group would have been a pretty girl. She had the appearance of a girl who didn't care about beauty. Her thick red hair was cut short to just about her chin, and naturally spiked at the ends. Her skin was tanned and freckle filled, and she had the same dark eyes as the smaller male. She was wearing a wrinkled pair of gray sweatpants, and a long sleeved jersey of some kind. On her hand was an old, antique looking engagement ring.

The woman eyed the three, struck by a sort of eerie familiarity to this group, though she was sure she had never met them. Maybe they were friends of her son's? No, they were younger than he was. The oldest didn't look over thirty.

"Can I help you," she managed to croak out. The sound of her voice seemed to snap them out of the fighting, and the all turned to look at her, identical looks of nervousness crossing their faces.

The smaller male and the woman stepped away from their third comrade, silently seeming to elect him as the speaker. He threw the two a slightly dirty look, but it also seemed to have an odd mixture of relief mixed in it.

"Hello ma'm. I know this must be a bit of a shock to you. We certainly didn't plan to arrive this time of night," the man started to say, and she saw from the corner of her eyes the man she assumed to be his brother sigh and the woman roll her eyes.

"We're here on behalf your nephew, Harry Potter. I'm his son Albus, and this is my brother and sister James and Lily," the man finally got out.

Petunia Dursley stared at him for a moment, before promptly shutting the door in his face.

Albus could hear the sound of his sister's giggles and his brother's chuckling behind him as he stared open-mouthed at the shut door. He hadn't been expecting the woman to be quite that rude. Sure, he had heard the horror stories like everyone else, but he had thought good manners could at least overcome her hate for magic.

"You charmed her alright. She was so struck by your smoothness that she was compelled with the need to flee," James said sarcastically, pulling his jacket closer to him to escape the bitter cold biting at his skin.

Lily smirked, enjoying the utter shock on his brother's face. She knew it wasn't going to work. She hoped the little experience had knocked some sense into her git of a brother and they could go back to their parents house, preferably avoiding having to use the London Underground this time.

"I suppose you think you can do so much better James," Al challenged, glaring at his brother. It was times like these he really wished he had been an only child. At least he didn't have to put up with James often, he'd inevitably flit off to whatever country he got the urge to visit next, taking away the miniature terror as well. He swore his niece had it in for him. Everytime he thought he had a minute's peace in his parent's currently crowded home, there she was staring at him, with what he could only conclude as a calculating gleam in her blue eyes.

Lily, unfortunately, was around more. She still retained a strong relationship with her mother and father. They had almost had a falling out years before, but had worked through their issues. Unlike James, who had fallen out of touch with Harry and Ginny for years until he had shown up with a six month old daughter to introduce to them. Holly seemed to bring James closer to Harry and Ginny than he had ever been. Albus was very happy in the fact that he had never once disappointed them.

"Of course I could," James told him coolly. Lily wanted to groan. Great, they weren't going to be leaving any time soon. If James had his way, they would stay here all night till he could show Albus up.

"Be my guest," Al offered, stepping away from the door. Lily chewed at her lip, wondering what James had in mind.

Her ears winced as sudden loud banging filled her them at the force of James' knocks on the wooden door. Al looked around, hoping the neighbor's weren't hearing this, but knowing there was no way they weren't.

"HEY LADY," James suddenly started to yell, "I CAN KEEP THIS UP ALL NIGHT. HELL, WE CAN STAND OUT HERE BUGGING YOU AND YOUR NEIGHBORS, IT'S YOUR CHOICE. ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS HAVE A LITTLE CHAT WITH US. WON'T KILL YOU."

Lily tried to pry her brother's arm away from the door and put her hand over his mouth, but he was a lot stronger than he appeared, and managed to slip away from her efforts. She stilled as the door opened and a graying, pudgy and tall man stood there, gesturing them in with a glare in his eyes.

"Told you I could get us in," James whispered to Al as they walked into the house. Al just stared at him. The man, presumably Dudley, glared at the two men. In one solid moment of agreement they glared right back at him, refusing to be scared of the vicious look he was throwing them.

Lily was ahead of them, already in the living room and sprawled in a chair. Petunia looked aghast at the girl, almost as if she wanted to throttle her. James just shrugged and plopped on the couch. Albus almost thought to excuse his siblings to the muggles, but thought better of it when he saw the look the woman gave him as he came in the living room.

"Are you insane," she screeched, "Your lucky I didn't have you all arrested. I just didn't want you doing any of that freakishness in front of the neighbors, it's the only reason that saved you." James and Lily just looked bored, taking the woman's words in stride, but Al wanted to correct her on the term freak.

If he didn't know how much his father needed this closure he would walk out the door. Well, that and the fact that he would surely be stared at after the scene his brother had just caused.

Dudley sat down on the couch, as far away from James as he could manage. Al was still standing, not wanting to intrude on the muggle's furniture without being invited to sit. Dudley started to look back and forth between James and Al.

The older brunette raised an eyebrow when he noticed, "Something you need to say?"

"Nothing," the muggle muttered. It almost seemed like he had gotten over his anger quickly and was now a little frightened of them.

"Just," he managed to start again, "The two of you look just like _him_." All three Potter's took the word him to mean their father.

Petunia glanced at the three intruders to her home. She really didn't know how she hadn't seen it immediately. Her son was right, the two boys did look just like her long estranged nephew. Hell, she hadn't even known he had children. She couldn't bare to glance at the girl, not that woman who was sitting in her late husband's chair without permission and with _her_ name.

The loud-mouthed intrusive older brother just shrugged. Petunia was stuck by the resemblance in mannerisms to her brother-in-law. He looked and acted more like his namesake than he did his father. Then again, Petunia hadn't known the elder James well, she had only met him twice.

The man with her sister's eyes and nephew's face seemed embarrassed and was gritting his teeth at the same time. He seemed as if he was just quelling an urge to throw his brother and sister off the nearest roof. As much as he looked like Harry, he didn't seem much like him. Harry would never have tried to be that polite to them.

She had never thought that she was every going to have one of their kind in her home again. She had been very happy that she had never heard from her nephew. It made her life easier, and it certainly made Vernon's life easier, for the short time he had been alive after Harry had been gone.

"Believe me Aunty, we don't want to be here anymore than you want us here," Lily was saying, pointing to herself and James. Petunia noticed she didn't include Albus in her pointing. In fact, all three siblings seemed to be staying as far away from each other as possible. She knew the signs of sibling hate well, having lived it herself.

"Don't call me that," she snapped from her own chair. The sooner she got these unwanted relatives out of her home the better.

"Fine, whatever," the girl smirked, picking specs of dirt out from underneath her fingernails. The elderly woman barely repressed a shiver of disgust as the dirt hit her pristine carpet.

"Spit out what you came here for and then leave," she told them. The middle sibling shifted slightly where he was standing.

"You speak genius. It was your idea to come here," his brother told him.

Albus sighed, and she waiting impatiently for him to speak, tapping her foot.

"I know you really don't want us here Aunt Petunia. You've made that clear. But you raised our father. He's never really said it, but I know he wants to speak to you. We came here in hopes that you might put aside your differences for a little while and visit him."

Petunia stared at the man. Did he honestly think she would do that? He was a bit naïve if he thought that was going to happen. James and Lily didn't appear to agree with their brother.

"No," she said simply. She hoped the man would just give up but she doubted it was going to happen.

"You must have some compassion for him. You raised him, he's your own flesh and blood. Look, he doesn't have much time. Our father's dying and the healer's aren't giving him much chance of getting better. He could be dead tomorrow for all we know. Please, put aside your differences for now," Albus pleaded.

Petunia raised an eyebrow. She was a little struck by the idea that her nephew might be dying, but she didn't want to think about that right now.

"I suppose you think that. It's a nice little argument, but the three of you can't stand each other. Tell me, if it wasn't for your father and mother would you all be here now," she retorted. She knew she had struck a cord with them, as they all glanced at each other uneasily.

"Please…," Albus started to stay but she held a hand up cutting him off.

"My answer is no. Now I want you all to leave," she said firmly. Albus opened his mouth to argue but James cut it off.

"Give it up Al. She said no, get over it. You came, you tried, you failed. Let's get back before outside turns into an ice storm," he snapped, grabbing his brother's arm. Lily took the other one, helping her brother drag him out of the room. Dudley got up off the couch to open the door to let them leave.

Petunia sat still for a few minutes glancing at her hands. A cold, tanned hand slipped a piece of paper in them, before letting go quickly. She could hear the sound of footsteps leave the room, and she glanced up to see red hair round the corner into the hall, leaving. Dudley came back into the room a minute later, collapsing back on the couch.

* * *

Harry sighed wearily at the sound of his children's bickering. He wished he could get off this bed and smack his two boys for being a pair of idiots, but he didn't have the strength anymore to even get out of the bed. 

This disease was so frustrating. He wished the healer's could either heal him, or let him die now, before it decided to take away his memory as well. None of the wizarding world's healer's had any clue what was killing him and several other wizards. It only seemed to effect the males.

The sound of his son's loud voices was getting on his last nerves. He knew they were here to be with him, and he appreciated that, but the three couldn't even manage an illusion of civility for his peace of mind at least?

He really didn't understand why they all detested each other so. When they had been children they had been so close, and he hadn't even noticed the gradual shifting from friendship to rivalry. His godson Teddy had only ever been close to James, but the two boys hadn't spoken in years. Something had happened between them. He didn't know what. Neither mentioned each other when around him.

Teddy had been by the day before when all three of his children had mysteriously disappeared. He seemed well, his job was going good, and Harry had to continually remind him not to worry. He knew that Teddy wasn't taking this illness any better than his natural born children.

His ex-wife, Harry's niece Victorie had been with their two sons, Remus and Romulus, who Teddy usually had custody of, because Teddy hadn't felt the two boy's would be able to see their great-godfather the way he was now.

Harry only had one grandchild, Holly, his son's adopted daughter. To say it had been a shock when James had turned up with her would be an understatement. Harry hadn't taken it well at first. He had wondered what exactly had gotten into his son's head to think he could take care of that girl.

But James persevered, and Harry was amazed at the changes that came over him when he was near her. With almost everyone else he was rude and obnoxious, but with her he was only a loving and gentle father. And she was a very smart child, almost eerily so. She had the aura of one being so much older than three.

Ginny had taken the girl out shopping earlier, not wanting to be around the bickering pair any longer. Lily had gone back to her and her fiancé's flat long before, pleading that she needed sleep. Harry knew Ginny was hoping for another grandchild from her soon, but Harry wasn't so sure Lily even wanted a child. He would have said she was to much of a free spirit for one, but than again James was raising a child.

Albus had all but moved out of his flat and into their home. Harry sometimes sighed as he thought of him. He knew he should be proudest of Al. He had never done anything bad, harmful. Never stepped a toe out of line, never disappointed them. Always stuck to the rules. He buried himself in his books and his work, and Harry was the only one who could tell how lonely he really was. He was only 26 and already he was working harder than Harry ever had.

Harry wished he'd do something drastic, get into trouble, go out and have fun for once. Not as much as James use to, but do something. He loved all his children, their faults and all, but sometimes he wished he could change them some. Make them friends again.

When he, and Ginny as well, were gone, all they would have was each other. Sure, they would have their cousins as well, but it would never be the same as a brother or sister.

He traced a finger over a photo of a pair of girls. One was pigtailed and blonde, and the other redheaded and curly. He really hoped they didn't end up like his mother and aunt.

* * *

Lily didn't know why she had given the old woman her address. She had been sure the old hag wouldn't bother coming, but had been proved wrong when there was a knock on her door, waking her up and causing her to leave the warm comfort of her fiancé's arms. 

Scorpius had just grunted and rolled over on the bed, blonde hair everywhere on the pillow, showing up brightly against the black fabric. It had been a surprise to see the some what frail woman on her doorstep. She had invited her in, shock consuming her. She was sure the woman didn't know why she had come herself.

"I'd offer you some tea, but since you didn't offer me any the other night, I'm not going to bother," she said tiredly, sitting on her couch. Petunia stood there awkwardly, but she just gestured with her hand for her to sit down. The woman eventually did.

"I wouldn't expect you to," she answered primly. Petunia looked around the place. It was quite nice actually, if one got over the magical items. Must be her fiancé's influence in the apartment, the old woman decided.

"Why did you come," Lily asked curious.

Petunia stared at the girl. Besides the name and the red hair, there was nothing of her sister in her great-niece. The former Lily and this Lily seemed to be completely different, in looks and in personality.

"Why did you give me your address. I sensed you weren't enthused to be at my house the other day, why give me this." Petunia turned the question around on the woman. She truly did not want to think about why she had come.

The thought of her nephew dying had actually become an alarming one. She had never liked her nephew, detested him like she had detested Lily, but some almost hidden compassion maybe didn't want him to die. At least, not without her getting to see him one last time. She hadn't wanted to think about giving in to Albus' request, but the more she tried not to think about it, the more she did.

"I'm not sure," Lily answered truthfully.

Petunia looked around uncomfortably. There was a moving picture of Lily and a handsome blonde haired man on the stand next to the couch. Must be the fiancé. In a smaller frame was a picture of three children, a smaller Lily and James and Albus.

Maybe there had been some love once, Petunia thought. Like her and her sister. There was a picture of Harry and a beautiful redheaded woman in a white wedding gown, must be his wife. Another was of a good looking, blue haired man and two blonde haired twin children. The last picture was of a small, blue eyed and auburn haired little girl, barely more than a toddler. She was cute, adorable even.

"Who is she," Petunia asked, attempting some small talk to break the awkward silence that had settled in the room.

"Holly, my niece. She is James' daughter," Lily answered. Petunia glanced at her. The rude one had a child? If anything, she would have guessed her to be Albus'. She ran her eyes over the girl's features, looking for her father in the girl. She couldn't find him.

"Doesn't look much like him," she remarked.

Lily nodded, "She's adopted. Shocked mum and dad something awful when he showed up with her one day. We were all sure he was going to blow it, but he's actually good at being a dad. It's scary."

Petunia was impressed despite herself. She knew how difficult it could be sometimes to raise another person's child.

"I'm surprised you have a picture of your brother's on that table," Petunia continued.

Lily glanced at the picture, shrugging. She never really thought about why she had put that picture of the three of them there. Nostalgia maybe?

"James is alright for an older brother. Don't see him much. He doesn't like to stay in one place long. And Al, Al is just a bore. Thinks he's always right," Lily said.

Petunia let out a faint smile, "I know how that feels." Her younger sister had been a slight mix of both. She had never liked to stay in one place long, and had always thought she was right. About everything.

Lily smiled a little back. "My dad didn't talk about you much. My mother use to paint you out as some sort of monster, and to be honest I'm not inclined to disagree with her. So, why are you here, really?"

Petunia glanced at the picture of her nephew's wedding and then to her great-niece, "I don't know."

"Maybe you should figure that out," Lily told her.

* * *

James smiled as he came across a picture of his father, a little younger than him now, holding three boys. Teddy and a younger him were on each of his dad's knees, and Albus was in his father's arms. His mini self had his hand in Teddy's, and Albus' fingers were caught in some of his hair. He hadn't seen this picture in years. 

"What are you doing," Al asked, coming to sit across from him. They couldn't fight anymore, both to weary to scream anymore accusations at each other. Especially after Harry had yelled all the way downstairs at them. Both men had apologized shame faced to their father.

"Just looking at some old photos mom and dad are saving," he answered, showing Al the one he was looking at.

Al laughed as he saw where his baby's self hand was at. "There was a time I actually liked you." James rolled his eyes but couldn't help but chuckle.

"Yeah you did. I remember for years you always had to sleep in my bed when there was a thunder storm. You and Lily," James said, reminiscing. The days when a scared younger Al use to beg for James to hold him seemed so far away.

"Yeah," Albus muttered in agreement. His fingers shuffled through the photos. He laughed, tossing the photo to James, smirking.

"Remember that one," he grinned.

James took one look at the photo, face turning red, "I try to forget." One time, when James had been nine, Al six and Lily four, the younger siblings had decided to play dress up with him. They had begged him all day until he finally agreed. The end result had been him ending up with makeup all over his face, heels on his feet, and a play like kid cocktail dress on. Ginny and Teddy had a great time taking those pictures.

"Mum could have made a lot of money from that photo," Al joked. James reached over to swat at his younger brother, but Al moved out of his way laughing. James couldn't help but join in.

"Look at this one," James said, pointed out one of a giggled Lily being tickled by James and Al, both dressed in Halloween costumes. James had gone as a stag, Albus as a dog, and Teddy had gone with them that year, their first without their parents, as a wolf. Lily had been dressed as a pumpkin.

"Yeah, that was a good Halloween. The last one before Teddy went off to Hogwarts," Albus said. The next picture was of just Teddy and James. Teddy was around fourteen and the two boys were chasing each other around the Quidditch field at the back of their property.

"What ever happened between you two," Al asked.

James looked up from the photos confused, "Me and who?"

"You and Teddy," Al stated, watching his brother shrug and look down, He always avoided someone's eyes when he was lying or trying to skirt around a subject.

"Nothing," he finally muttered. Al looked at his brother skeptically.

"Yeah, sure. The two of you were close, and you haven't spoken in years. You speak less to him than you do to me. That's got to be a record or something," Al said. James fiddled with a photo.

"We just, grew apart. It happens. I mean, me and you certainly don't act like this anymore," James said, gesturing to a photo of him and Al hugging when they were children. Al looked at the picture, and tried to remember the last time he and James had hugged each other. He couldn't.

"No we don't," Al agreed. He didn't even remember what had happened anymore to make them act this way. To make all three of them act this way. He was sure James didn't either.

* * *

Petunia Dursley certainly had no idea that at the same moment she was reminiscing, her great-nephews were doing the same miles away. She stared at the photos and crayon drawings she had placed out on the kitchen table. They hadn't been out of a dusty box in the attic in perhaps fifty years. 

Old and almost faded, the two children were still recognizable as her and her sister. Once they had been close. Petunia had adored Lily and vice versa. Then, then that awful boy had to tell her what she was and soon Lily was drifting away from her. Petunia had tried her hardest to be able to go with Lily, but she had been rejected, and her sister got to enter a world Petunia would never see or understand.

After all these years she knew that she had been a little jealous of her sister, but really, she had mostly cut off her ties to her because she feared loosing her. In the process she had somehow come to detest her. Meeting Vernon, marrying him, had only added that, and it had turned into disgust of all magic. She knew, even if she would only admit it to herself, how she had treated Harry was vile. No one deserved that.

Albus had been trying to insist to her that Harry needed closure, needed to see her. Her niece had asked her to figure herself out. She realized she didn't want to see Harry because of Harry. It was because of her sister, and how she never got to reconcile with her. Maybe, somehow, through him, she could.

Observing James and Albus and Lily had made her think. It had given her a sharp kick into reality. They were on the same road she and her sister had been on, and if their father hadn't been sick, she had no doubt they wouldn't have come. She knew, if they continued down that road, when Harry and eventually his wife died, they wouldn't see each other anymore. She had cut ties completely with Lily after their own parent's death.

"Mum, what are you doing. It's late," Dudley said, coming down the stairs. Petunia smiled. Her son wasn't the most productive man around, but she loved him. Sure, he had never moved out and never really found a good job, but he was a good son to her.

"Just looking at some old photographs honey," she told him. He shrugged tiredly, rubbing his eyes.

"Alright mum," he said, kissing her cheek. He turned to leave but then turned back to her. "You know mum, I know you don't like to talk about him. But maybe it would be good for you to see him." With that parting comment, her son went back to bed.

The old woman ran a hand through her white, thin hair. Maybe it would.

* * *

Harry wondered who could be knocking on his bedroom door this late at night. His children never knocked and neither did his wife. It could be Teddy he supposed, but he really didn't think it was. Maybe Ron, because Hermione would never come this late. 

"Come in," he called out. The door opened, standing in the open door way was an old, wrinkled woman he didn't recognize.

"Hello," he said cautiously.

"Hello Harry," she said in a sharp voice, one that sent a jolt of awareness through him. He knew who she was. The question was, what was she doing there?

"Aunt Petunia," he muttered, in shock. She stepped more into the room, her purse clutched tightly in her hand, standing as close to the bed as she felt she could manage.

"Yes, it's me. You look…well, not good considering…but, you've aged well," she said, and he had. For a man over fifty now, he didn't look a day over forty-five. There was only slightly gray in his still thick and messy hair, and a few faint lines around his mouth and eyes. But he was pale, paler than she had ever seen him and she could clearly see the weariness that surrounded him. Black circles were under his eyes and his skin might as well have been paper thin.

"Thanks. So do you," he replied, still unsure why she was there.

"I expect you must be wondering why I'm here," she mentioned. She nervously sat down on the edge of the bed. "You're daughter brought me here. You children can be oddly persuasive when they want to be."

Harry's eyebrows couldn't have gone farther up unless they wanted to travel off his face, "My children?" Albus, James, and Lily had arranged this? They had done something together? Harry wondered if maybe he was starting to hallucinate with this illness.

"I can understand your shock. They don't get on well do they," Petunia said. Harry nodded.

"Harry, you son seemed to think you might need closure from when you lived with me. I'm not sure if he's right. But, I think, maybe I need a little," she admitted.

Harry looked at her, not recognizing his scornful aunt under all the wrinkles and uncharacteristic shyness.

"I just want to know why. Why you hated me so much, when I know you and mum use to adore each other."

Petunia sighed, "I wasn't jealous, not really. Not of her. She was my little sister, you know. And I, I felt like with her being a witch, I was loosing her. She had gone into a world I couldn't possibly understand. And so I distanced myself, and eventually, I grew to resent her, but I think I was projecting my own feelings of resentment for myself onto her. And then you came, and you were so much like her, and I swore to myself that you and Dudley would never be close. So that he would never have to go through what I did. I've been regretting lately a lot of things, the most that I never told my sister how much I really loved her."

Harry stared at her, awed and shocked and a little angry by what she had told him. He had gotten what he wanted now hadn't he? But what did they do now? They stared awkwardly at one another, Harry trying to figure out something to say. Some way to put his emotions into words.

"What…what made you think about your regret," Harry asked.

Petunia looked at him sadly, "Your children actually. The way they are with one another." Petunia inwardly smiled a little as she remembered the scene she and Lily had walked in on. James and Albus actually getting along, laughing over photographs. Lily had let her walk up here by herself and had gone to join them, giggling at one picture of James. Maybe it wasn't too late for them.

"Aunt Petunia," Harry asked. He wasn't sure why, but he felt like a child in her presence.

"Yes," she asked, looking at him steadily.

"Can you tell me a story about mum?"

* * *

Albus stared silently at the newly marked headstone in Godric's Hollow. His father had held on for awhile, as long as he could, but about a year after he had been diagnosed he passed away peacefully in his sleep. Their mother had been hysterical the moment she woke up to find her husband of thirty-one years dead next to her. He wasn't sure she would ever recover. Their grandmother Molly had never really recovered from losing their grandfather, up till the day she died. 

Mostly everyone had left the cemetery now, the funeral having been over for a little while. It had been a small, family affair, none of them wanting it to end up a publicized event. There were a time for reporters, and a funeral was not one of them.

He jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to face his solemn looking brother and sister.

"Hey," he said. They repeated it back to him. Lily rubbed her five months pregnant stomach. Shortly after she and Scorpius had gotten married, she had learned she was pregnant. She planned to name the baby if it was a boy Harry, and a girl Harriet.

"Aunt Petunia and Dudley just left with Mum. Aunt Petunia thinks Mum might need someone to take care of her for a few days," James told him. Albus nodded. She was probably right.

"Where's Holly," Albus asked. James rarely let his daughter out of his sight. Albus had learned that his niece, for some reason, adored him. It was actually kind of cute the way James would frown when she sometimes imitated him.

"Teddy's holding her," James admitted. Al had not gotten any closer to figuring out why James and Teddy had stopped talking, and he wasn't sure he ever would, so learning that Holly was with Teddy was a surprise.

"She likes his kids," James muttered defensively, but didn't look either of his sibling's in the eye. Al wondered, but figured he would never understand his brother. That was alright. He didn't have to understand his brother, just accept him.

He laced his hands through his brother and sister's, all three Potter children staring silently at the glistening headstone.


End file.
